


That First Time

by audreyslove



Series: Signed Sealed Delivered [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 07:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14374305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: for #oqkissday





	That First Time

The first thing she admits to herself is that he’s a really good kisser.

She’s not supposed to dwell on their _mistake_ , she’s not supposed to think anything of it, and everytime her mind wanders back to it, she tells herself it’s the lingering guilt and regret that takes her back to that moment.

Except she’s not feeling _bad_ when she thinks back on their little makeout session.  It brings a jolt of adrenaline to her, a shiver to her spine as she thinks of the way he felt against her.  She thinks of the way he held her, how his arms were tense, yet his hold was gentle. As if he wanted her so badly but he still wanted to give her space, didn’t want to trap her.

She didn’t feel trapped at all.

She had felt, well, wonderful.  There was a flash of warmth all over her body that settled hard on her cheeks, and then that soft, buzzing feeling as every nerve ending went on high alert, craving what she wouldn’t yet allow herself to want.

And then he had leaned in slowly, and she went dizzy and weightless.

She had imagined kissing him for so long, against her better judgment, of course.

And she couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

And did it really _have_ to be so much better than she even expected?

His lips were soft, but firm.  It was a good and thorough kiss, not a lazy, hesitant little thing. His lips touched hers as his hand caressed her neck, thumb wiping over her jawline.  It was a series of small kisses, each a bit more heated, a bit more needy, and she lost her mind when he sucked on her lower lip before passing the last of the “chaste” kisses.  

When she opened her mouth, he slid his tongue against hers as if he knew exactly what she liked, massaging and caressing her own tongue against his, parting and then returning with every carefully smack of his lips as he held her, that hand on her neck moving to thread through her hair, his other hand anchored at her hip, tension and intending, as if he were encouraging her to do more, to go further.

Her hands somehow ended up under his shirt, and she was finally feeling his abs under her fingertips, the way she had wanted (she had touched him before, always in jest, or “accidentally”, never having time to _appreciate_ the way she had then, while kissing him). And then he let his hand fall from her neck to the side of her breast, his palms so close to her aching, hard nipples she nearly quaked with desire.  As he planted kisses on her neck he sucked on this one spot that drew out this moan from her that was absolutely embarrassing. She sounded so needy, so affected, she wanted his hands on her breasts, wanted to draw her tongue down his neck, trace over muscles of his chest, his stomach, then she wanted to give in, going lower, and—-

She didn’t do any that, as much as she wanted to. Because then _he_ cried out a little _goddd!_ that made her clit pulse, and she realized how ridiculous it is to want to fuck her friends brother on a lazy weekend afternoon, while said friend is due to come back at any moment.

And Robin, dear god Robin is her _friend,_ did she really want to lose one of her friends?  No.  Their kiss had to be a mistake.

That's why she ripped herself away from him, managing to say _Sorry_ between heavy pants.

He had looked a bit concerned, but his lip for a second before asking  “Did I misread something? Did you—?”

“No, you didn’t misread anything,” she had assured him, unable to resist leaning back into his chest.  “I… wanted that, in that moment I… a lot, I wanted every bit of it, you didn’t, you did _not_ misread anything.  But we shouldn’t, we can’t.” She had felt mortified, annoyed at her own libido, her rising hormones, her own stupid _feelings_ for always having her want things she can’t have. “We are friends. I only ever want to _be_ friends.” She lied.  “I’m just… I’m really sorry.”

“Is it alright if i’m not?” He had asked in that cute teasing little way.  She felt the weight of what she had done lighten. Robin always has that way with her.

She had laughed and smiled at him, conceding "I can't stop you."  And he had winked back at her and told her could never regret a kiss _that_ good.

And frankly she doesn’t really regret it either.  Maybe _will_ regret it, when she sees him kiss another woman.  And that will be proving Emma’s exact point, the exact reason why Regina never should have gotten involved with him.  

Regina actually doesn’t think he’s a player, actually.  He isn’t _callous_ , he doesn’t _lie_ about his feelings.Robin is just… restless.  He falls for women hard, burns deeply for them, and then the magic dies fast, he grows bored and moves on.

She doesn’t think he actually _means_ to hurt these women.  It’s just something that happens.  It’s in his nature.

It would hurt her to get involved with him, because Regina is not like that.  She loves deeply, and long, forever. So she can’t ever get herself into a situation where she _loves_ her fickle friend, or it will crush her into pieces when their romance burns out in his mind, and he pushes her aside and moves on to the next girl in line.

So she’s going to keep her distance, and make sure she doesn’t feel anything for him other than the love and affection of a friend.

Emma is right.  Getting involved with him would be a terrible mistake.

But still, she thinks to herself, as she lies in bed, letting her hand wander underneath her underwear, just to touch, just for a second.  But still, there’s no harm in remembering that he’s quite a good a kisser.


End file.
